Painting Flowers
by Himuro
Summary: Years before the war, Draco meets a unique little boy who has a true talent in art. Years later, that boy is much more than that. And the most important part? After all this time, he's still painting flowers for Draco. Slash. AU. DMHP.
1. Chapter 1

**Painting Flowers**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything. Characters and Harry Potter all belong to J.K. Rowling. Lyrics belong to their respected owners as well.

**A/N:** Yay, a new story! It's long overdue from when I should've posted, so hopefully, it'll please all you Drarry loving people. This was inspired by the song: _Painting Flowers_ by All Time Low, which might I add, is an amazing song that goes real well if you listen to it while reading this. You'll probably even see some of the lyrics within. Not sure how long this is going to be yet, but we'll see won't we?

**Summary:** Years before the war, Draco meets a unique little boy who has a true talent in art. Over time they are separated and even forgotten. Years later, that boy is much more than that. And the most important part? After all this time, he's still painting flowers for Draco. Slash. AU. DMHP.

_This story contains Slash, OOC, AU, and OC's. I'll give warnings when appropriate for each chapter. Also, this is un-betad._

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**__I am still painting flowers for you._..

The young man pulled his scarf more securely around his neck to protect himself from the winter chill. The sky was still a pitch of darkness save for the small beam of light from the sky, as dawn slowly broke out over the city. The air of luxury and upper class was clearly felt as he walked down the neighborhood of London's most expensive flats. Uncrumpling the small piece of paper that was wrinkled from his clenched fist, it read:

_1387 Ritzy Blvd._

He almost laughed out loud at the ridiculous name of the street. Ritzy? The neighborhood couldn't be described as anything else, _but_ ritzy. The man smiled, he had no doubts that the man he was looking for lived here.

"1383...1385...Ah, bingo. 1387." Looking down the street, he noted it was still empty, just the way it should be. As he walked towards door of flat #1387, he reached under his coat before pulling out a single green rose. The man had conjured it himself and knew it was perfect, like it always was, and cast a simple charm on the rose before placing it on the door mat. A quiet sigh escaped the man, "It's been so long...too long." He took one last glance at the flat before him and apparated away.

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Draco sighed softly as he stepped out of his shower with a towel around his waist. One of his favorite reason for his morning showers was because it allowed him to relax and wake up properly. Being 21, he was the youngest healer in the history of magic, and to hell if he wasn't proud of it. His parents would've never wanted him to take to a profession of such "unimportance," his father would've said. The war in the Wizarding World had ended a year ago, but for the most part, he still chose to live in the Muggle world, save for his job. His parents were dead, just like many of the innocent souls during the war, not that his parents were innocent in any way. The last time he had seen them alive was 4 years ago when he was out shopping for his godfather, Severus Snape. _That _certainly hadn't been a pleasant encounter, as it had resulted in Draco being forced to send a hex or two at his father before he apparated away. He realized later that day that if he hadn't been taking lessons for years with his godfather, he would've been dragged back to the Malfoy manor and most likely dead.

Water droplets scattered as Draco shook his head; he didn't need to start off his day in memory lane. He was, after all, pleased with his life despite the feeling of emptiness he sometimes felt in his personal life. Besides, he was usually too busy to acknowledge that bitter hole. He grabbed a pair of black denims and his favorite forest-green cashmere from his closet before heading down to his kitchen for a quick bite before work. Work took a lot of his time, but in all honestly, Draco didn't mind too much. Unlike St. Mungos, there wasn't any real rules to where he worked: a private healing clinic. Draco worked along the side of a few other healers at the clinic, but no one really questioned each other. For the most part, it was up to them if they wanted to work or not. So long as they payed the monthly rent to the chubby man named Todd, who owned the place, all was well.

The clock on the black painted wall ticked 8:21 and he cursed inwardly. One of his patients would be there in nine minutes and he had yet to take a glance at their folder. Even though no one at the place minded what time he decided to step in at, being late was bad for business. With a flick of his wand, tea was poured into a cup and two bagels were neatly packed into a small paper bag. Nothing like a steaming cup of tea on a cold winter morning, Draco thought, as he downed the tea. He picked up the bag and headed for the door, stopping only to grab his healer robes. Just as he was about to step out and into the world, he noticed a green rose lying at his doorstep. Draco didn't keep in touch with many people, but even the ones he did din't know where he lived. Frowning slightly, he poked his head out, only to find the usual empty and quiet streets of Ritzy Blvd.

He didn't have time for this mysterious rose; perhaps someone had simply got the wrong address. Upon picking up the rose, he could feel the tinge of magic that the rose held, and he stared. There was something about the rose that held recognition and resemblance, but he couldn't pin point it. Muttering a simple spell to check if it was cursed with dark magic, the rose glowed a warm light blue: it was harmless. He placed the rose on his coffee table and made his way out. It would simply have to wait, he thought, as he walked to the nearest apparation point.

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"...And I just can't get over the fact that she's just like all those other people I know. I just don't know what to do anymore."

The man before Draco couldn't have been much older than himself, the only funny part was he was going to Draco for counsel. To be fair, he wasn't just a healer for physical wounds and such. He also played part time psychiatrist, and occasionally even, to put it bluntly, advice giver. Internally, he cringed, "advice giver" always sounded so cheap to him.

"And how old are you?" Draco asked, looking weary. It had been a long, busy day for him. If the only problem with the guy was girl problems, he might as well send him off. Draco rarely booted any of his patients out, or for that matter transferred them elsewhere, but so to speak he didn't really take interest in girl problems. One, being the fact that he, Draco himself, was gay and two, the healer next door loved dealing with this stuff. She was a women by the name of Trelawny, and practically lived off of gossip and relationship problems. Draco once heard her said something about "being young again". How she managed to grab a place as a healer, he hadn't the slightest clue.

"20," Dean replied a little uneasily.

"You're 20 and you're pinning after a girl with hormones as probably stable as a two year old's attention span?" Draco questioned. He wasn't usually this impatient, but he had little patience for relationship problems, when there could be people dying and needing his help. Sure he was being paid for this, but it's not like he was short on money. Oh no,he was far from that. After all, he _was_ the Malfoy heir. No matter how much his parents despised him, he was their only child and naturally when they died, everything went under his name.

"I...well I care for her greatly," the man muttered softly.

"Look, not only are you being played here, but this girl-what was her name again? Oh right, _Ginny_, is definitely enjoying the attention you give her even though she clearly, as you've told me yourself, doesn't fancy you a bit," he snapped. Only when he finished did he realize that he was being rather unfair to this poor guy who obviously had a broken heart. Shit Draco, he thought to himself, calm the fuck down, you're professional, you don't snap at people.

Dean nodded, looking a little frightened at Draco's now obviously annoyance in his voice. "She also likes this other bloke, but he doesn't even glance her way once..."

"Has it ever crossed your mind that perhaps this other bloke realizes what a player Ginny is? Come on Dean, you can do better than this."

There was a moment of silence, before realization seemed to hit the man. "I...yeah, you're right. I think, I've got this," Dean said slowly.

Draco smirked, "Good boy. Now go out there and win another girl's heart; this one's just not worth your time. If you feel like you need to just rant at someone though, feel free to drop by again."

Dean grinned and nodded his thanks before getting up to leave.

He sincerely hoped that the man would not come see him again and trouble him with his relationship problems. Draco admitted that he gave good advice in relationships, besides never really having a solid one himself, but he didn't really take interest in it. The little interest he took in relationships had been long lost to the one person he ever loved, but that had been so long ago...

Grabbing his stuff, he exited the building. It wasn't until after dinner and when he sat down beside his coffee table, did Draco remember the mysterious flower from that morning. Admittedly, he had always had a soft spot for flowers. He twirled the green rose around in his hand over and over again. It really was stunning. Carefully, he touched a petal on the rose, but only to have it fall on his lap. Draco was taken aback as he had barely touched it and the petal had fell. It took him a moment before he realized that the rose was charmed to have petals consistently fall and fade away into green sparkling dust, but the best part was: the petals always grew back. The magic that flowed through the flower seemed to trigger something deep inside of him, and for that single reason he believed the rose wasn't misdelivered, but for him. Only, why would anyone place a rose on his doorstep and...what did it mean?

Draco's suspicions were confirmed the very next day when a portrait of a gardenia was placed on his doorstep. For the rest of that week, he would wake up each morning to either a beautiful portrait or a single flower on his doorstep. Never a note or anything more, just an image of a flower. And every time, there was always something unique about the way the flower was drawn or looked that made him think of the past. However, whenever his thoughts reached back far enough to his childhood, he would always force himself away from it. He didn't want to think of that again and he had long blocked off that part of him.

It was Friday and he had received 3 portraits and 2 flowers in total. To be honest, Draco himself had no idea why he didn't just throw them away if they were so meaningless. But in the end, he always reasoned it would be a waste of such fine art and beauty, and he would simply place it on his fireplace mantle. They were surely bringing a lot of color to his living room.

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"Can you move it to the left?...Yeah, just like that...easy now, it's still healing," Draco told the man as he made notes and comments on his clipboard.

"Sir, your arm seems to be working rather smoothly now. It should be all healed within the next few days or so and you should have no problem at all getting back to work. Any questions or concerns?"

The middle aged man shook his head, "As soon as I can get back to my job, the better. I don't like taking time off as an Auror...criminals don't wait for you to get better."

"Understandable, just be more careful while handling dark magic. The next time you might actually lose your arm...alright?"

Nodding, the Auror made to leave the room, "Thanks, Healer Malfoy."

Filing away the folder, his office door was suddenly thrown open. "_Malfoyyy_," Blaise called out, stretching the syllables of the last letter in his last name.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked as he raised a brow and shut his file cabinet.

"What? We're just dropping in...don't you ever appreciate company?

"For all you know I _did_ have company. Can't you at least knock?"

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Can't you at least be grateful we came to invite you out with us?"

He snorted very un-Malfoy-like, "Last I checked, you guys invite me all the time."

"That's because you never accept our invitation..., but whatever. Just come for drinks with us, mate. It's well past working hours."

"And actually we're not taking no for an answer tonight," Cecilia, whom was Blaise's girlfriend, added.

Draco sighed. As rude as they were, they were friends. Only sometimes they just didn't know how to take "no" for an answer. Guess this time he'd have to go, it had been a while since he last went out anyways.

A girl of silky blonde hair stepped forward and pushed Blaise out of the way. "Draco," she said with a smile. Astoria was a good friend of his, but he suspected she had a small crush on him, despite him stating matter-of-factly that he was only into guys. Out of all his friends, he could say that Astoria was the most sensible one.

"So, Draco...are you coming or are we dragging you there by force?" _...Or maybe not._

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Heavy pounding music, drunken atmosphere, noise,_ sex_-this was _Delirious_. To those who held the wealth, _Delirious_, was the hottest nightclub in all of London. Only those who had invitations were permitted to enter and Merlin knew how hard those were to acquire.

Draco merely rolled his eyes and downed his third vodka martini in seconds at the insistent of his friends. It's not like he couldn't hold his alcohol down or something and he supposed getting shit-faced drunk wasn't going to hurt him tonight; the distraction would certainly be welcome. Feeling a slight fuzzy and relaxed always made things simpler. Draco didn't particular seek anyone out; he wasn't a whore, nor was he some sex-deprived freak, but that didn't mean he couldn't _look._ So to speak, Draco was still picky in his choices even if he wasn't looking for a partner, just someone to fool around with for a night. Yes, just that...no harm done from fooling around when you were single, right?

The first to catch his attention that night was a male of jet-black hair on the dance floor. He was dressed in a dark grey striped tee with tight jeans that clearly hugged his bottom well. And the hair, _Oh Merlin_, was that some hair. The hair was messy in a way that plainly screamed, _"I just got the shag of my fucking life, don't you wish you were me?" _It was hot and in a way that Draco thought wasn't possible. Unconsciously, Draco licked his lips, this man was _the sex_ and he hadn't even seen his face yet, which was currently facing the opposite of him. How the man swung his hips and danced to the loud beats, it was simply erotic. Determined to join the sexy god currently dominating the dance floor, Draco got up from the bar and waved a hand at his friends to tell them he would be back later.

Stepping onto the dance floor however, a strong hand grasped his arm and spun him around. His lips were met and brushed against one eager pair before he had the time to compose himself. He had sandy light brown hair and was about the height of Draco. Upon recognizing the man, he simply turned his face so that man was now kissing the side of his mouth instead. _Darren._ "Ahh, what Darren? No one caught your interest tonight?" he said with an amused look, momentarily forgetting his mission to join the delicious male on the other side of the dance floor. Darren was attractive and he had a great personality, but he was still just a friend. Or, a friend with advantages. They got off on one another on certain occasions, but had agreed that their relationship should step no further.

"You know no one stands out as much as you," he purred, their bodies swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music.

Draco smirked, "Always the one with compliments, aren't you?" Normally, he wouldn't mind spending time with his friend, but he had seen someone else that caught his eye earlier.

Instead of answering, the man leaned forward for another kiss, but Draco pulled away suddenly with a frown. He glanced over Darren's shoulder, but he saw nothing of interest. He had lost sight of the gorgeous man he had wanted to pursue.

"Aww Draco, don't be like that. Something the matter?"

Draco shrugged absentmindedly, scanning his eyes through the crowd, "Was just looking for someone."

Darren acknowledged that he wasn't going to get any response out of Draco and stopped trying, "Who?"

"Just...someone." There was still no sign of the dark haired male and he pried Darren's arm off his shoulders, before making his way to the spot he last saw the guy, "Sorry, Darren. I'll catch up with you later."

Darren shook his head, but let it go with a small smile, "Guess he found someone of interest."

He had made his way through most of the club, and even the bathroom, but he did not see the one he was looking for. Defeated, Draco made his way back to the bar for another drink, and quite possibly to remain there for the rest of the night. Even with his sleeves rolled up half-way in a stylish fashion, it was getting quite heated in the club. _Pity_, he hadn't even got a chance with the guy and he was now nowhere to be found.

Time dragged on in an endless blur as he downed drink after drink, losing himself in the taste of alcohol and movements of bodies on the dance floor. He payed no mind to Cecilia and Blaise who were nearing a full make-out session a couple seats away from him. If he wasn't going to get any action tonight, at least he'd make a damn good time of drinking. After all, it wasn't everyday that he came here.

An arm slung around his shoulders and the a familiar voice of his friend met his ears, "Cheer up, Draco! You look so down."

"I do not, Astoria."

"Then why aren't you out there mingling with the crowd?" she asked with an amused smile.

He shrugged and frowned, "Neither are you."

Astoria laughed lightly and batted her eyelashes at him, "I only have eyes for you, Draco."

Putting down his glass, he pointed at himself, "Gay, homosexual, don't do girls, _won't_ do girls. End of discussion. Sorry Astoria."

Smiling, she picked up her glass of cranberry margarita, "I know...and whoever wins your heart is one lucky beast."

Draco stared at Astoria for a moment before smirking slightly, "Yeah...maybe." They made small talk for the rest of that night and into the early mornings, talking about nothing of real importance while downing alcohol. It was half past two when Blaise and Cecilia finally wandered over to them, and together they all made their way out of the club into the cool night breeze.

Blaise laughed and raised an eyebrow, "_Astoria's_ drunk? I would pay to know what you did to get her that way, Draco."

Astoria grinned smugly, "He didn't do anything, it was my own choice."

Draco merely shrugged and Blaise eyed him suspiciously, "You sure you didn't do a little something? Kiss her, maybe? Or did you do the inevitable and...fuck her even?"

"Zabini, I'm gay," he slurred slightly with a roll of his eyes.

"You are so dense sometimes, Blaise," Cecilia sighed hopelessly.

"You should listen to your girlfriend more often, she's got a point."

"Asshole," Blaise muttered under his breath.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Nights outs were always the same event-wise, like a routine. They would chill out at a local club until they had had enough, and then by that time, they would usually be drunk enough that they didn't want to apparate home and instead would walk home. Cecilia and Blaise lived together and Astoria lived only a block away from them. Truthfully, Draco too lived only two streets away from them, but he never shared where he lived and they had stopped pestering him about it long ago when they realized he would not relent.

Little up ahead of them, Draco could make out a girl and a guy who seemed to be bickering.

"_Why_ were you so close to that guy?" a fiery-red haired girl demanded.

"Gin, I fucking _like guys_, why the hell not?" replied a man. Draco chuckled, the man sounded a lot like he did whenever he had to point out that he was gay to people.

"The way he looked at you...I don't like it. It's like he wanted to eat you."

"We've been over this before. Leave it," he bit out.

"Leave it? I can't just watch as you flirt with other guys!"

"I can't believe you...I'm not your property, Ginny!"

_Hm? _Looking up with mild interest, he wondered. _Ginny. _He knew that name...why..._ah, yes_. His patient earlier that week had mentioned a female by the name of "Ginny." What a small world...was this possibly the same Ginny?

The red head moved closer to the male and wrapped her arms around him from behind. In a small voice she said, "But you came back."

Draco and his friends were getting closer to the two people, and his eyes widened in surprise, as he recognized the male to be the man with messy black hair, the very man he was looking for a couple hours earlier. Albeit, he still didn't know the man's name and he still couldn't see his face.

The man sighed like it was a great trouble talking, "I really didn't come back for you. You know I don't like you like that...I have other reasons."

She sounded annoyed then, "I know, I know. You came back because of your precious _art_." The the word 'art' was practically spat with disgust and for some reason it made Draco frown.

"Not the way you think."

"Tell me then, tell me what this big mystery is."

His head shook, "It's a long story..."

"You always say that. Why can't you just tell me?"

"And I'm being honest when I say that."

"I don't understand you anymore. You never tell me anything," she said, looking down at the ground.

Whether it was because he was wasted or just because, Draco decided right then that he disliked the female; she sounded like a whiny little bitch. If this was the same 'Ginny' that Dean was talking about, which everything seemed to point to so, he couldn't blame the guy up ahead for being rather cross with her.

"You don't have to, Gin. And I'm going. I would see you home safely, but I know for a fact you can take care of yourself," he replied

"Wait, Harry!" she yelled, grabbing onto one of his arms.

"_Harry, please!" _It sounded desperate now and the man turned around. For the briefest moment, his face was finally in the direction that Draco could see him. Stunning green eyes stared up at Ginny as he shook off her arm and gave her a small smile, and then nothing. He had apparated away into the night. Ginny seemed to hesitate for a moment, before too disappearing into the darkness.

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That named seemed to hit him like cold ice, and he blinked a few times, wondering if he really heard correctly. But if the conversation and looks was anything to go by, everything seemed to fit like a puzzle piece.

"_But you came back."_

"_...I have other reasons."_

"_You came back because of your precious art."_

_Art._ The art that sat on top of his fireplace, the art that was painted flowers. _Flowers. _And the green eyes, ones that seemed to pierce right through his soul. _No one had eyes like that._

He should've known from the start..., but who was he kidding? Truthfully, deep down inside, he did. He just hadn't had the heart to admit it and he was afraid. Afraid that it was true and he didn't know what to do, or that he was right and he still didn't know what to do. Yet here it was, the evidence, the _proof,_ so crystal clear, it was staring right at him. He couldn't deny it anymore, it was true.

_He_ was here. _He_ was back. _He_ was Harry Potter. And he'd be fucking the world if he didn't miss him.


	2. If Everything Was That Simple

**A/N: I'm utter shit at updating and dragging my thoughts into a written story...forgive me, or don't. Honestly, I've re-written and changed this chapter a million times. It's still bugging me, but I don't know how to make it better right now and I've had it for far too long (3 months is completely unacceptable, but I haven't died). Thanks to everyone who has read this so far. Not my best, but here you go. x**

**EDIT: Oops, I made a mistake last night and posted this under my one-shot instead. My bad, sorry for the confusion. Fixed now! **

**Warnings:** Time-leap - things might go a little fast and be left with a lot of unanswered questions (hopefully not too much), but I don't really want to focus _too_ much on their past, just enough. So we'll see how much I'll cover with their past... And _mature content_ in this chapter, but honestly it's gonna be something like this through the whole story. So read or not, your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**CHAPTER 2**

_**This chapter is a flashback.**_

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_Strange maze, what is this place?_

_I hear voices over my shoulder..._

The Malfoy Manor's gardens could be something of a legend with it's vast beauty of carefully trimmed plants, perfectly cut grass, and not to mention the luminous waterfalls. Located on the countryside of Wiltshire, it's beauty was natural, but under the works of magic, it was enhanced even more.

It was a shame really, thought Draco, as he wandered aimlessly into the divine greens. No one, but Draco truly appreciated the charm of the Manor's garden and it really did deserve better. His mum would occasionally take a stroll through the garden, but she never ventured far into it. Draco suspected, he was the only one who had fully seen all of it and knew of every secret the gardens held. In fact, he spent so much time there, he knew it better than the manor itself.

He had his reasons for staying in the gardens though. From what Draco could deduce from the Dark Lord's stay at the manor with his family, was that Lord Voldemort, was a scary man that wielded dark powers. He despised the dark wizard, but knew better than to voice it. It's not like he had any choice in that matter anyways, he was 11 and his entire family seemed to serve that man. As long as he kept his distance, all was well.

Draco was a curious boy, who never showed much emotions. In all honestly, he couldn't help it though. Having grown up without much love and mostly independent, he learned to keep to himself unless positively necessary. However, Draco was a fast learner and he found many subjects, especially potions, fascinating. He took lessons from his godfather who came to stay at the manor for a week every month; those weeks were always Draco's favorite. He didn't have many friends, but that never really bothered him; other children were not like him. Especially not the "Death Eaters" children, who all favored shooting hexes to spending time in the garden. Not that they could really shoot any magic, but that didn't stop them from trying. That was all a bore to Draco really, he learned to shoot hexes on his 7th birthday, when Snape told him that he'd have to learn or perish in society for "reasons he could not say". Snape could be a frightening person when he wanted to be (which was frankly, most of the time), but Draco learned if you got to know him long enough, he was a caring person on the inside.

Leaves scattered around Draco as the wind brushed against the trees. On some days, Draco wished he could be as carefree as a flower. Their life seemed so simple. All they needed was the basics: water, food, sunshine; if only his life could be just that. No one threatened them, no one expected anything from them, but to grow and look pretty. He could do that for the rest of his life, he thought, grow and look pretty. Although certainly, he was growing pretty fast himself and his looks weren't half bad. In fact some would even go as far as saying he was a true beauty.

A slight rustle among the bushes drew Draco's attention away from the gardenia flowers in front of him. A rabbit...a squirrel...a mouse? What, or...who? No, in the Malfoy garden's, the last thing he expected was for a little boy to pop out. Baggy clothing, messy black hair, crooked glasses, and dirt clinging to his arms, the boy was quite a sight.

Draco glanced around him and when he saw no one else around he took a step forward towards the boy, "Who are you?"

Brushing the dust from his knees, the boy got up and grinned, "Harry."

It's not like Draco was shy or anything, he just didn't really talk to a lot of kids. "Hairy? Like hairy spiders?"

He laughed lightly and Draco noted that it was a pleasant sound. "You're funny, but more like H-a-r-r-y."

"Oh." A moment passed and the wind could be heard whistling. Draco shivered, it was a chilly day. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Your house?" he frowned slightly. "So that's where I'm at?"

"Yeah. Wiltshire to be exact, but this is private property. I don't know how you got in...," he trailed off.

Harry shrugged, "Private property or not, that's never stopped me before. Apparating can you get you anywhere if you know how to do it correctly."

_Apparating? So he's a wizard too. _"You can apparate?" he asked in somewhat awe.

"Yeah. And I was just thinking of a forest like place, when I appeared here," he gestured to the area around him.

"Oh." Another silence. "Where's your parents?"

"Dead."

It was a firm honest answer and it made Draco feel bad for asking it. He never got on with his parents much, but they did provide a home for him. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I get on pretty well and they left enough for me to survive on."

Draco nodded, and wasn't sure what to say. Something about the other boy made him feel connected in a way, and perhaps they could be friends. Decidedly though, he knew that he couldn't tell his parents about him. Hurriedly, he pointed out, "Don't let my parents see you."

"Sure. I don't trust adults anyways," he said scratching his neck uneasily.

"You don't? How do you get by then?"

He shrugged, "I'm on my own. Freedom is nice, you know?"

"But, don't you have a home?"

The next words that spilled out of the black hair boy's mouth made him wonder if he was talking to his godfather instead. "Home is only where your heart lies, home is only where you will it to be."

"And...your family?"

Harry scowled for a moment and didn't say anything, but the next moment he looked up with such a smile, that Draco wondered if the scowl was just a pigment of his imagination. "That, my friend, is a story for another time. I have to get going now."

"Wait!" Draco blurted, reaching out an arm to the other boy.

He turned his head to the side and looked at him oddly, "Yeah?"

"Are you coming back?"

"...Like come back here? To your house?" Harry asked with an amused expression.

"Yeah." Draco suddenly felt very foolish having asked such a question, but he supposed it was too late to take back what he said. "I mean...only if you want to."

Harry seemed to study him for a moment before nodding, "Sure."

His eyes lighted up as he heard the other boy's answer, "Promise?"

"Promise."

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy popped out of sight. Harry wasn't kidding, he sure could apparate, Draco thought with a smile, he'd have to ask his Uncle Severus about that one.

True to his words, Harry returned to his gardens everyday. Turned out that, Harry too, had a soft spot for flowers. But, the best part was when he discovered Harry could draw. And he meantdraw, as in real art, like the ones that hung in the Malfoy Manor. Perhaps it was the common interest that they shared, or the fact that Harry was mysterious and Draco knew next to nothing about him, but being with him always made Draco feel as though nothing in the world mattered. Time never flew so fast and things never seemed more perfect. Harry was both mysteriously unknown and intelligent, that Draco didn't quite know what to make of him. All Draco knew was that he liked him.

However much he liked him, Draco often thought it strange how Harry seemed to be able to cast wandless magic _and _apparate at such a young age. He'd asked Severus about it and his godfather had merely told him it was extremely rare and if he ever encountered such a person, they were most likely a very powerful wizard. After that, Draco had dropped the subject with his godfather, but Severus was a persistent man and seemed to see right through him. A couple days later he had went and questioned Draco.

"Draco, is there something you should tell me?" his godfather's eyes' searched for his expression. He use to be intimidated by him when he was younger, but he knew better now that Severus meant no harm to him.

He shook his head slowly, "No, sir." He couldn't sell out Harry like that, even if his godfather wouldn't hurt him. Harry wasn't _him_.

Their eyes met and Snape said in a quiet voice, "You know you can tell me anything. Do not lie to me."

"I...it's nothing. Can't we get on with the lesson now?" he had replied with a raised brow.

"Very well. However, I advice that you stay cautious to anything and _anyone_ around you passing by the manor," Snape had warned, "And if ever you feel you are in danger, you must come to me immediately. These are troubled times and you never know what might just happen." At the last sentence he had said before they began their lesson, Draco had rolled his eyes. Severus was always so dramatic with everything he said.

It wasn't until later on, that Draco finally found out that Harry had no family, for he had "escaped the clutches of the evil Dursley's" and he was alone in everything he did. In a way, it wasn't much of a surprise to Draco, he suspected it after all. He wasn't that oblivious and he even suspected there was much more than just the Dursley's to Harry's mysterious life. However, every time he questioned Harry, he would merely shrug and respond with "It's complicated" or "It's a long story". Despite his curious nature, Draco let it be. He didn't give up on him-_oh no_, but he knew Harry would tell him in his own time when he was ready. For now, his heart would settle for his friendship and that was all he needed.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Have you heard of the Eiffel Tower in France?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course I have, Harry. Just because I haven't really been anywhere, it doesn't mean I live in a box."

"That would be quite a sight, wouldn't it? Draco Malfoy in a box? I can only imagine...," he trailed off.

"Shut up," Draco yelled over Harry's laughter, throwing leaves at him.

"Okay, okay. Stop," Harry called, brushing the leaves from his hair, which only left his already messy hair to be in a more state of dishevel, but he supposed it couldn't be helped.

"So...you've never seen it before, now have you?"

Wrinkling his nose, he shook his head. "Can't exactly go anywhere, remember?"

"And you say they'd know if you apparated out of here?"

"Yeah, as soon as I leave the grounds, apparate or not, the wards will trigger and they'll know."

Harry frowned, "That doesn't make any sense. How can they not know I'm here then?"

Draco shrugged. He wondered the same question himself, but Harry was always an exception in seemingly, everything, wasn't he?

Harry's eyes looked distant as he said, "I'll get you out of here one day, and you'll see so much more..."

Draco didn't say anything, but he believed those words. He believed that Harry would travel the world with him and that he would be free from his parents, but for now he would just have to live each day as it was and maybe, just maybe...one day.

_Four years later_.

"You know," Draco began, "Your paintings always make flowers look nicer than they do in real life. If only they could _come_ to life."

Brilliant green eyes stared at him and a smile broke out on Harry's face, "Well, thanks."

Draco nodded, "I could never get bored of seeing them."

"...I just thought of something. I'll be back in a bit, don't look for me," Harry called, as he walked off towards the waterfalls.

Watching the other boy walk away, Draco merely let him go. Harry would be back in his own time, he knew that much.

Time time that passed since Harry was there last could've been 20 minutes, or an hour, or more. Every time he was with Harry, time seemed to be nothing and the world would simply begin to fade away, leaving just Harry and him. Sad to say, the sky would always reach darkness far too fast.

Warm smooth hands brushed Draco's bangs away and rested on top of his eyes. Draco smiled, "You're back. About time, might I add."

Harry rolled his eyes despite that Draco could not see him. "Keep your eyes closed and hold out your hands."

He did as the other boy instructed and before long something of very light-weight was placed in his palm. His fingers curled around it and opened his eyes, a gasp escaping his mouth. What lay before him, left him speechless, but somehow he found his voice, "Harry! This rose you just gave me, it's the same as the one in your painting!"

"Yeah. I figured out that I could conjure any of this stuff," he indicated at the sketching pad, "and make it solid."

"It's brilliant...thank you," he replied in awe, not quite taking his eyes off of the flower in his hands.

"Glad you like it," Harry chuckled, quite pleased with himself.

Clearing his throat Draco replied in a nonchalant tone, "I shall have to keep it forever now."

Harry knew it was his way of saying that he really liked it, but jokingly he said, "Oh, you don't have to, I'll throw it away for you if you want. I mean it didn't just take like 2 hours for me to make it perfect."

Reaching a hand towards the flower, Draco's hand swatted his away, "Back off, Harry. I'm keeping it. _Forever._"

He laughed and threw an arm around his best friend's shoulders, "Relax Draco, no one's taking your flower away."

"Better not."

Draco's other hand that wasn't holding the flower, reached for Harry's and the two boys smiled. They stared off into the distant setting sun, falling into a peaceful silence. It was a glorious sight of orange, yellow, and red hues mixed together, but that wasn't what they were thinking of as they watched the sun slowly become smaller and smaller in the distant. The only thought that really passed their mind was each other and the simple question that they each asked silently to the sky and everything above: _Why can't the world just be the two of us?_

xxxxxxxxxx

A man dressed in the darkest cloaks wandered down the hall with his beloved Death Eater, Bellatrix, by his side. Across the hall, a women in the palest of blue robes was seen.

"Narcissa," he hissed softly.

The lady widened her eyes for a moment, before she stepped forward and bowed. "My Lord."

"Tell me...where is the boy nowadays?"

She stiffened slightly, but it went unnoticed, "T-The boy?"

Voldemort waved a hand lazily, "Your son...Draco Malfoy, was it? Where is he?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "Gardens. He's always in the gardens now."

"Very well, Narcissa. I shall be paying him a visit tomorrow if that's not too much to ask," he said with a smirk tugging at his lips. Everyone knew how Voldemort would "recruit" his young followers.

"Of course, My Lord, as you please."

xxxxxxxxxx

Draco groaned as he moved his stiff neck and cramped muscles. Opening his eyes, he was met with Harry on his left and a blanket that seemed to be thrown on them carelessly. A gentle morning breeze brushed against his cheeks and he pressed his palms against his eyelids in an attempt to wake himself up. _Shit. _Apparently, they had fallen asleep yesterday on the grass. Normally, Harry would leave before the night fell, but to _where_, he hadn't a clue.

Beside him, Harry stirred and mumbled something unintelligent. He smiled to himself, Harry probably wasn't a morning person, but that was alright. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead," he chimed, prodding Harry in the side.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked slowly. Staring at Draco, he demanded, "Why are you so happy? It's too damn early."

He began, "Well someone woke up grumpy," but upon seeing Harry's continuous glare he just shrugged, "I wake up around this time everyday, why should I be mad about it?"

Wordlessly, Harry casted a _Tempus_ charm and large digits told the time: 7:16. He groaned and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "way too early" and "fucking mornings".

He chuckled at Harry before standing up and stretching, "You're the one that spent the night here, don't complain now."

"Don't even start-you're the one that fell asleep first and used me as a pillow. Not to mention, you sleep like the dead. I couldn't bloody well leave you here," Harry grumbled.

Draco just smiled, "Lighten up." And Harry did...eventually.

With the leftover food that Draco had brought out from yesterday, they improvised it as breakfast. "I can run and get more, if you want," Draco offered.

Shaking his head Harry noted, "It's fine. You barely even ate any of it."

"Sure, I did. I just don't have much of an appetite in the morning," he shrugged lightly.

Harry snorted, "You're too skinny, learn to get a better appetite then."

"What, I'm too skinny? Maybe you're just too fat."

"Sure you aren't kidding yourself?" Harry taunted raising an eyebrow before smirking, "I look _good_. Admit it."

"Conceited much," Draco mumbled. In truth, Harry wasn't fat at all, and he was right. Harry was perfectly fit and he was sure any teen would kill to have his body. Well, he was thinking mostly of Crabbe and Goyle and their size compared to Harry really.

Laughing, he stood up, "I have to get going though, actually. I'll come visit you later, yeah?"

Sad to see him go, but knew that when Harry made up his mind it was rarely changed, he nodded, "Yeah. See you." Harry apparated away, leaving what felt like a sudden emptiness inside Draco. He shivered and closed his eyes briefly. He had a bad feeling about this day, about...something, but he couldn't say what. With a weary glance towards the Manor, he headed in that direction. A hot steamy shower and a change of clothes was in order, he thought silently.

xxxxxxxxxx

As Draco wandered back to the gardens a few hours later, Harry's flower was once again on his mind. He wanted to give something in return to Harry, but he really didn't know what. Through one of the strolling paths, he reached one of the first areas with benches. A simple fountain in the middle and perfectly cut rubbles that made up the grounding there. It was then that he remembered, as much as he felt it, and tensed. Something was off, something was very_ very_ off.

The air felt cold like it would never be warm again and darkness seemed to reach out to him as if it would never let go. Dark magic seemed to circle around him and a sense of dread filled him. Draco had always been good at sensing things, and he was rarely wrong in what he felt.

At a hiss of sound, he spun around, stunned to see the man he very well tried to avoid. "Draco," the man said with a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, "I've been waiting for you."

Draco masked his features with a cold, calm expression and swallowed. He only hoped to heaven and all the gods that Harry wouldn't return yet. He ran through all the words that his parents would say in the other man's presence and desperately tried to sound like all his other loyal Death Eaters."My Lord...is there something I can be of service to?" His voice sounded small and powerless, but _fuck_ the man was dangerous after all, so it was fair that he was at least a little terrified...right?

Voldemort's hood dropped and revealed a man who couldn't have been older than 20. It was the first time he had actually seen the man up close, and it was shocking really, that the man who was supposedly responsible for murders all throughout the world, was so young. Perhaps it was only an appearance, but still. "Yes, yes indeed. You catch on quick, don't you?" Voldemort asked.

He really didn't know how to answer that, so instead he gave a small nod. He had no idea what this man was planning, but he knew that anything that's "good" in the Dark Lord's eyes wasn't good for anyone else.

Lust gleamed in Voldemort's eyes as he reached a hand towards flinched, carefully side-stepping him. _Run, run, run _the words seem to flash before his eyes over and over and it was all that he could understand at that point. He had no doubts that the other male was a hell lot stronger than him, and even if he was run, he probably wouldn't get very far before getting caught. Besides, where could he go?

It was futile avoiding Voldemort, he seemed to move as quick as the wind. "Draco, you'll like this, _I promise_," Voldemort laughed out. The voice, _his_ voice, sounded like it was piercing skin. Draco back up, only to find the back of his knees colliding against the bench, and before he knew it the man's body was pushed against his. Draco let out a scream, but perhaps it was only in vain, as he wasn't sure if anyone would even hear him this deep in the garden. He hadn't scream like that since he was five when he saw Fenrir Greyback devour someone under the moonlight. That was a night he would never forget and he knew that this one would probably not be far off from that.

Draco coughed, and turned his head, as the other man's lips brushed the side of his mouth, before descending upon his lips. A rough kiss, that Draco did not respond to. He would not._ Wrong, wrong, this is so wrong. Mum? Dad?_ He knew they didn't love him like they loved each other, but surely they wouldn't let this happen to him?

Voldemort pulled away slightly and with a sick smile and replied, "There's no point in screaming, there's no point struggling, Draco. No one's here, no one cares. And even if they did, they wouldn't _dare_ interfere with what is mine." He unclasped his cloak and let it fall to the ground, before leaning over Draco again. The blond teen's shirt was ripped open and his jeans were already half undone.

Despite his words, Draco strained to shove the offending man off of him, but he was too weak, too skinny...Harry was right. And Voldemort's words echoed through his mind, _"No one cares...And even if they did, they wouldn't..."_.

He was going to be sick, for Draco knew then. He knew then that his parents would not come to save him, that they did not care what happened to him, so long as _they_ were safe. How ironic it was that your own home was suppose to be the safest place in the world, but who would've known that was the very place that was the most dangerous? If anyone would save him, it was Harry, but even then he did not want him to come. He did not want Harry to see him so weak and just the thought of what Voldemort might do to Harry...he couldn't do that to him. Half of his mind screamed for Harry, but the other half would rather Harry be safe and away.

Voldemort growled and grabbed his wrist before slamming it harshly against the bench above his head; it was surely to bruise. _Fuck,_ he thought as he closed his eyes.

As he did so, he missed the figure who had come to stand a few steps behind Voldemort.

xxxxxxxxxx

"_Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!_" Harry thought loudly in his head at the stranger leaning over Draco, before focusing his magic upon Draco and releasing him with _Relashio_. At once, Harry ran forward and grabbed Draco's arm. He knew his magic would only temporarily delay the man who had seemed to be forcing himself on Draco. Something about that man made the scar on his forehead ache, giving him the reason to believe the man wasn't any ordinary one.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

Draco stood, half in shock at how quickly everything seemed to have happened, but nodded. "Let's go..._now_," he added the last part at Harry's seeming fascination with the dark wizard.

The man who had been hit by Harry's spells previously hissed, "_Harry Potter. _Playing hero already? Perhaps you'd like to hear that the last time your parents tried to play hero, they ended _dead_."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the other man, finally understanding who he was. "_Voldemort_," he bit out, saying the name in disgust. "Maybe you'd be happy to know that I'm _not_ my parents and you might find you'll be surprised." People had warned him about this man, but it was nothing like meeting the guy who had tried to murder you as a baby face to face. He hated this man for stripping him of his parents, but he couldn't help but loathe him even more for hurting Draco. He hadn't known his parents after all, but Draco, he had known him long enough to become the very person he cared about more than anything.

"Surprised? I believe the only one who will be surprised here is you," Voldemort laughed, waving his wand lazily. "You may have escaped me before, but don't count on it happening again."

He cursed inwardly. If Draco wasn't around, he might have stayed, if only to learn more about the man who had killed his parents, but he couldn't risk it now. "_Sectumsempra_," he whispered as a distraction. Harry closed his eyes, wishing himself and Draco to be in his hotel room in London, away from everyone, away from Malfoy Manor, and most of all away from Voldemort.

They landed, somewhat awkwardly on the bed, Harry on top of Draco, their hearts pounding madly from the previous events. It was harder than he had thought, apparating an extra weight with him; he'd have to work on that. Shortly after, Harry noticed that Draco's shirt and jeans were still only half on and made to get up, but the pale boy's hands grabbed on to him.

"Don't," he whispered, looking into the other's eyes. _I don't want you to let go, Harry. I thought, maybe I'd never see you again today._

"I'm sorry," Harry replied, looking down. _I shouldn't have left you alone, I wish I took you away from that place, like I wanted to so long ago. _

"Don't," Draco repeated, "It's not your fault. If anything, it's my parent's..."

"I know, but-," Draco shushed him, leaning forward. A brush of lips met and tongues collided against one another, battling for dominance as it dived into the others' awaiting mouth.

As they pulled away, their breathes came in short pants. A hand ran down the perfectly pale chest and whispers met the blond boy. "Beautiful. You're so beautiful Draco..."

Draco wasn't sure what had made him kiss Harry, but it all sort of just happened and soon it was only a blur of actions. Only one thought crossed Draco's mind now: _Home is only where your heart lies...only where you will it to be._ And _this_ was home, with Harry. He groaned softly into the brunette's neck and bit down, as their hands entwined. Thrusts were met in air, as their erections grinded upon each other, creating such delicious frictions. The passion of their lust so deep it was burning deep within their veins. But they knew it wasn't just lust of a hormonal teen that drew them together, it wasn't just because of a terrifying experience that had happened, it was something else, something _much_ more powerful. And for that, they knew the unspoken words that hung between mattered very little at the moment.

With a sudden intake of breath from Draco, he knew it was all over. He fell into the glorious patterns of his orgasm and any last thoughts were lost. Along his side, Harry came in a silent scream, his fingernails digging into the others' flesh. The feeling of warm satisfaction flowed over them and then the blissful sleep that overruled them never seemed so welcome before.


End file.
